Coming Home
by ofwcktadgaf
Summary: Happy Lowman is on one very unique run; finding JT's daughter and bringing her home.
1. Chapter 1

st june.

Tig and the prospect, Juice, pulled up to the duplex colored sage green in downtown Lodi, exhausted from the ride. The commute from Charming to Lodi seemed about ten times longer in the cage-a van labeled Swanson Energy. Juice had farted and laughed about it like some little ass kid for half the ride, sometimes replacing his flatulence with burps and trying to coax him into competition. Little bastard exited the car, little Latino body awkward in that powder blue jumpsuit. Tig followed close in tow, putting on his friendliest smile as Juice rapped his knuckles against the door.

A couple moments and four clicking locks later, a pretty little bitch stood in the doorway, clad in a sheer, ivory blouse that showed off her lean stomach and ample breasts hidden beneath a blue lace bra. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders in thick raven waves and her incredibly full lips were glossed a berry pink color. She was hot and her complexion was a beautiful caramel tone, and Tig wasn't sure if they had the right chick.

"Jules Teller-Foster?" Juice inquired, voice oozing with professionalism as he looked down at his clipboard from dramatic effect.

"Just Foster. How can I help you?"

"I'm Juan Carlos, and my associate and I here are from Swanson Engery and would like to check out-"

"Oh, sure, sure, come in. I got the call earlier today." she smiled warmly, opening the door wide enough for the pair to step inside. Her house was nice. Real nice. Taupe walls, white and black furniture, clusters of light blue and purple flowers standing tall in their vases. Her hardwood floors were sparkling, and Tig almost felt bad for wearing shoes in the house. "Can I get you guys some lemonade? Looks like you've had a long day."

"Please," Juice grinned, watching her ass as she left. Tig swatted him on the head, telling him to get on task. Immediately, Juice pulled out his little prepaid and took some snaps of the house. Tig searched frantically for some personal pictures of this bitch and her family, but found none.

All the pictures in her house were of the sun setting on the ocean shore, flowers, and nature shit. Nothing of her. Nothing of her Ma'. No old man. Bitch was a loner.

"We got the right chick?" Tig asked, making sure the Foster bitch was out of an ear shot.

"Yeah, that Cadence girl? The junkie? She was black and Mexican, real cute, just like her baby girl. All woman-"

"Alright, alright, back to work, ya' little shit."

Juice offered Tig a grin before taking more pictures of the home. Tig was entranced by the only picture he'd found of the Foster bitch, where she stood topless, arms covering her breasts, a long white skirt billowing in the coast's ocean breeze, when Juice nudged him. He waved him off, looking at the photograph intently. Bitch was gorgeous. Juice tapped his shoulder, and this time he turned around, angry. "The fuck do you-oh." he saw the Foster bitch with a long, slender finger on the trigger of a silencer and put his hands up.

Tig felt his cock jump in his jeans. Bitch was hot with a gun.

"Now, listen here," she seethed, eyes wild and ablaze with something that could only be described as fury. "I'm not afraid to pull this trigger-wouldn't be the first time. In fact, I want you alive 'n kicking when I send you back to your little club," she sneered. "to tell them they best keep their fucking distance. Alright?"

"Yes, ma'am." Tig said, trying his best to look unfazed and not as turned on as he was. The Foster bitch pursed her lips, pointed the gun at his feet and pulled the trigger. "Ow, oh, fuck me! What the fuck was that for?"

"I gotta message to send." she said nonchalantly. Foster bitch turned to Juice. "Prospect," she demanded, once sizing him up. "Get the fuck out of here and take the trash with you."

To say Clay was unhappy about the pair coming back empty handed was the understatement of the year. "The fuck do you mean she was unattainable? She's a twenty-something year old girl, for Christ's sake."

"She shot Tig in the foot-just to send a message. Had this crazy look in her eyes. Seen it before, but never like that, not on a chick." Juice said quickly, regretting it as soon as she said it.

"You let this little bitch get the best of ya', Tiggy?" Clay asked, obviously disappointed. "I'd expected that from the prospect, but not you."

"Bitch's fierce." Tig offered his excuse, and sat down, as standing hurt him a whole lot.

present day.

Bitch was cute, real cute. Long hair, remarkably full lips bitten a deep red, flushed cheeks, nice eyes framed by a fan of lashes. She was dressed up more than usual, clad in a black dress with dark crimson heels and a Tiffany & Co. bracelet.

Happy watched intently as she sucked the heart from a cocktail olive, only after dismissing another prick wanting to be hers for the night. She put down her martini, leaving a temporary red kiss on the brim, making every man in the room wish he were that piece of glassware. She stood and left, leaving a hefty tip for the ogling bartender.

Jules-a name Happy had to get used to saying-walked out into the night, keys in hand, along with a small vile of mace. Good girl.

She stopped momentarily, fishing a cigarette from her purse. Must've been a long day at the office. A martini and a smoke? Bitch was cutting loose. The thought made Happy's lips catch the curve of a wicked grin. Maybe she needed a nice fucking, too. He thought to himself. He wouldn't mind pinning her hands above her head, hearing her cry out as he -

"You gotta light?" she asked in her sweet, husky voice. Happy pulled out a nondescript silver Zippo and flicked it open, igniting a small flame for the - Jules. He watched as smoke flooded her lips just before she sucked it all back in. Fucking hot. "Thanks."

"Sure."

Jules expelled a stream of smoke from her lungs and eyed Happy closely. He saw her sizing him up-or checking him out. She looked from the snake tattoo on his head, to his toned arms and fit abdomen. She looked up into his face, and then into his eyes, unfazed by the story they told. "Where do I know you from?"

Been watching you for three and half weeks. Seen your sweet ass running every morning at the Capitol. Seen you walk out of work all angry and shit. Seen where you live, sat on the bed you fuck yourself in almost nightly. You pick, princess. "Dunno." he vaguely replied, "Gotta go."

Jules stood and watched him, Hap felt her eyes on him, as she smoked her girly-bitch, filtered, menthol cigarette and as he sat on his bike, he turned to look at her, and the cancer stick was on the ground, jaw slack. He looked at his kutte and back to her and grinned wickedly. Yeah. Bitch got his message.


	2. Chapter 2

She was cute when she was angry. Real cute. Cheeks flushed, brows knitted, scowl on her lips. She was dressed more modestly now, much to Happy's dismay, clad in a pastel pink top under a caramel colored blazer. She wore jeans and knee high boots that matched her blazer to a tee. Her hair fell down her shoulders in their usual loose curls, and red hues were visible in the sun. That hair billowing around her as her angry face got closer, boots clacking on the pavement. "Hey!" she called, pointing an accusatory finger toward Happy. He looked around, feigning confusion. "Yeah, you, asshole."

Jules was right in front of him now. The scent that lingered in her home was subtle on her, the smell of flowers, fruit, and sandalwood. The mere smell of her got Hap's jeans all tight. "Where do you get off on terrorizing me, huh?" she inquired, voice lethal. Happy couldn't help but smirk. "I said to your boy that I wanted your gang-"

"Ain't a gang, girl."

Jules sneered, "Your little club of criminals and petty thugs to stay the fuck away from me. I put a bullet in your friend's foot, I am not afraid to put one between your eyes."

Hap's face darkened, and he could see it scared her. Her poker face was good, but he could still see her heartbeat quicken as her jugular pulsed. He didn't take well to being threatened. Nobody got away with it, not even SAMCRO's royal gash. He seized her by the arm, standing now, towering above her, and seethed almost silently in his raspy voice, "Lucky you're wanted alive, girl, but remember, I can still drag your ass back to Charming with a bullet in your gut." he let her go, pushing her aside.

"Y-you can't hurt me." her voice cracked, though she tried her best to sound confident.

"No, I just can't maim or kill ya'. I can hurt you, though, and nobody would say a damn thing."

When Jules left the consignment shop, weary from a long day's work, her day only got worse. That biker, who's been stalking, and now threatening her, sat outside, mounting his bike. She closed her eyes tight and tried to walk past him coolly, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward his bike. She didn't struggle, since resistance was futile; little old her against big, hulking him was an unfair fight. He looked at her with cold, dark eyes and a wicked smirk. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way, girl, it's all up to you. You're coming back to Charming one way or another."

Jules cut her eyes at him, scowl resting on her lips. "What's the deal?" she asked, voice firm and unfaltering. "What's up with SAMCRO's fixation with me?"

"You're family-"

"Oh, bullshit, I'm family." Jules spat, utterly disgusted at his words. "Family doesn't turn family away when they're a newborn to live with their junked out Ma'. Family doesn't forget about family until it's convenient for them to have them back."

Hap looked at her for a long time, contemplating what to say next. He had to play his cards carefully. He knew a lie wouldn't get past this bitch, but he knew the truth could push her even further away. Happy took his chances.

"Maybe not. But family protects family when their life is in danger, and right now, you're in some deep shit."

**back in charming**

Tig needed to relieve stress. Thing were a mess. This DeLuca prick was wearing on his last nerve. Threatening the MC and shit, trying to push blow and crank into Charming. Tig grabbed a croweater called Nina by the arm, his new favorite. She reminded him vaguely of JT's little girl, as far as faces go, and did some things between the sheets that even he hadn't thought of. She could give good head, too. Ever since Foster had pulled that gun on him and shot him in the foot, Tig had a hard time thinking of much else to get him off. He loved a bitch who could hold her own.

"Got something on your mind, Tigger?" she smiled, running her hands over his chest.

"Yeah, doll, you know the drill, on your knees."

His lack of chalance seemed to get the croweater down. Seemed a little dejected, but got on her knees anyway, immediately going to his zipper. He slapped her hand, and wagged a finger at her. "Ah, ah, ah. Mouth only today, no hands." he demanded, gathering her mane in his hands. She smiled up at him with her hazel eyes, and used her teeth to down his zipper. She did the same with his boxers.

"Good girl, doll, that's it," he cooed, once his cock was in her mouth. She maneuvered awkwardly, cocking her head to one side, trying to fit as much as she could between her lips. She gagged and sputtered, but kept going anyway, trying to make him proud.

Tig could only think of JT's daughter while he got head from Nina. He could only think of how viciously she'd go at him with her mouth. How much bigger her tits were compared to Nina's. It was all wrong. Blue eyes were meant to meet brown, not hazel, when he came. That second of eye contact was supposed to be the second he blew a load in her mouth and swallowed it. His fantasy was ruined by Nina's cough, cum dribbling down her chin as she choked on his semen. God damnit.

"Go clean yourself up, you're a fucking disaster." Tig scowled, dragging his clothes up to cover himself and walking away.

Nothing was going right in Charming. Even the pussy was off.

**Comments are updates, which are in the works c:**


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